Lessons in Humanity
by moonlight80
Summary: Dean’s new body comes with some manufacturing defects that no one saw coming. Castiel watches as Sam tries to help. Tag/extension of my Drabble, Fearfully and Wonderfully Flawed, but you don’t have to read that one. Sick! Dean/Caring! Sam ahead


Title: A Lesson in Humanity

Author: Moonlight 80

Summary: Dean's new body comes with some manufacturing defects that no one saw coming. Castiel watches as Sam tries to cope. Tag/extension of my Drabble, Fearfully and Wonderfully Flawed, but you don't have to read that one.

A/N: A HUGE shoutout to Mad Server, who's awesome beta-ing made this fic happen.

A/N #2: I have never had measles and know no one who has. And if I did, I'd be too shy to ask about what it felt like. All my research came on line, and I hope I do alright in portraying the illness.

_________________________________________________________________

Two thousand years is a long time to stay away from a place. Naturally, we've watched from afar, but we haven't been this close to a human in so long some of us forget what it's like to actually be human, whereas before we would talk to them face to face, usually in times of great doubt, and give them our Father's reassurances. Without bearing witness to any human imperfections, without keeping God's creation sharply in our minds, we've grown in our estimations of ourselves; choosing to not recall that when man was created, we agreed to honor, protect and obey him, or else face the consequences. It was that conceit that damned Lucifer, Aazael and many others to hell, though some of us seem to have forgotten this. Or else we think our own selfish pride doesn't matter anymore. That God has changed somehow, and our own little sins don't count, not when there's such a great evil facing this world. Those of us who think this are wrong.

I've been watching over Dean more than he knows. I suppose one could say that my interest has gone from purely professional to personal. He's a curious being, Dean. He never seems to change, no matter what life throws at him. I'm not sure if that's a good thing. From what I can gather, his brother has been everything to him almost as far back as he can remember, and he will not see reason when it comes to Sam. I have to say, I don't have anything personally against Sam, but we were warned about him and how dangerous he is.

While I'm keeping half an eye on Dean, I start to notice that he is paler than he usually is, and he keeps coughing, rubbing his forehead and sniffling, not to mention that he's starting a rash on his neck, from what I can see. I don't like it. His body is, essentially, new, and is unaccustomed to being out in the world. I'm not sure if I've done him a favor in refreshing him so completely.

"Dean?" Sam gives his brother an odd look. No, not odd, concerned. "Are you alright? You look tired." He looks more than tired, but Sam leaves the observation at that. From what I know about Dean, he doesn't welcome too many truths about his health at once.

"Yeah Sam, I'm good," Dean lies, his voice sounding raw and hoarse. I know it's a lie because all humans have tells, even the best of liars, which I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dean is. His voice gets just a bit quieter and he always looks somewhere else, even when talking to him face to face, never in his eyes. Right now he is looking out of the car window, not facing his brother at all. I think the only person who can see through him more completely than I can is Sam. Dean scratches his arm and sniffles again, then sneezes into his hands. "It's freezing in here, though." He wipes one of his hands on the leg of his blue jeans before he reaches for the controls for the heater and cranks them all the way to red, then fumbles in the glove box and puts on a pair of dark glasses.

Sam makes an annoyed noise and I can guess why. It must be 70 degrees outside and the sun is high, beating down on a black car. "Dean, it's freakishly hot in here. Put on your jacket if you're cold." He jerks the knob back toward blue, but after a short while he glances at Dean, then sighs and puts it back to the red. "You're getting sick, Dean. You look like crap and you must think I'm deaf if you think I can't hear you sniffling from three feet away. I'm gonna pull into the next station and get you a few things." He doesn't even make it sound like a question for courtesy's sake, he just tells Dean what he's going to do. I suppose that's a little odd, as Dean generally seems to be the one to take charge, but Dean doesn't seem to be offended.

Dean nods and reaches in the back of the car for his jacket, which he pulls over himself like a blanket. It doesn't surprise me that he snores when he's ill. Most humans do, from what I can tell. His nap seems to be unrestful, which doesn't surprise me, either. He's not exactly a peaceful sleeper under the best of circumstances. No human would be, with his memories.

Sam pulled the car into the first fueling station he sees and gets out, leaving the car running. He doesn't latch the door all the way, either, presumably so as not to wake Dean. I'm tempted to follow him and see what he is buying, but choose to stay watching Dean instead. His rash seems to be worse, though the sunlight is shining directly on him now. Light brings everything more clearly into focus.

Too soon, Dean is jerked out of his slumber by Sam opening the door and closing it harder this time. "Sorry, I was trying to be quiet, but these damn doors don't shut unless you slam them." Sam set the bag on the seat between himself and his brother. "I'm not sure what's wrong with you, exactly, so I just grabbed the usual crap until we whittle it down some more."

Dean reaches into the bag and pulls out a tube. "Sam, what's this?"

"You have a rash, Dean."

"I know and you still haven't answered me. What is it?"

"You know lotion when you see it, don't play dumb."

"The only thing I ever use lotion for is…"

"Way too much info there, Dean. I don't want to hear it."

I raise my eyebrows and sigh. He can be very inappropriate sometimes. Sam drives several miles more, and slows at the first motel he sees.

When Sam drives into the parking lot Dean looks at his watch. "You do know it's five in the afternoon, right?"

"Yeah, and you're falling asleep."

Sam gets out of the car and Dean follows him, protesting. "So I'll sleep while you keep driving." He stops short, his breath coming in quick gasps; raises his glasses a bit and squints up at the sky. I wonder why he'd do that, if the light hurts his eyes. I don't have to wait long to find out. He brings his other hand up to his face and sneezes three times. "God…" He enjoys saying that more than he should, in my opinion.

Sam turns back to him, eyebrows raised. "That's why we're stopping."

"Lots of people sneeze when they get out in the sun, Sammy." Dean is wiping his nose on the back of his hand and sniffling.

"And you only do when you're getting sick and needed to sneeze already."

"It was stuck." Dean grumbles, leaning against the side of the building.

In a few minutes his brother comes out of the office with two keys. "We're in room twelve." He gives Dean a sharp nudge. "Hey, quit scratching."

Dean claims the bed closest to the door and seems to fall down on it. Sam frowns. "You okay?" He asks Dean that a lot, I've noticed. I don't see why, Dean will never tell him the truth. If Dean was going to admit to being ill, he would have done so while Sam was lecturing him the first time.

"I'm fine, Sammy, just tired." Dean rubs the back of his neck and groans in pain softly. He's still wearing the dark glasses, in spite of the fact that the curtains are pulled and it's far from bright in that room. "Tired and freezing my ass off. You mind cranking up the heat while you're still up?" He frowns when Sam picks up his phone and presses a button before he goes to the heater. "Who you callin'?" Dean pulls off the long sleeved shirt he was wearing and I see how extensive his rash is for the first time. It covers his torso and arms and is a bright red. He scratches his arm violently before going completely under the covers. He sits up suddenly, reaches for the tissue box, takes out a few and sneezes several times into them.

Sam makes a sympathetic wince. "I'm calling Bobby. I… I don't know what this is, but I know it can't be anything good." Bobby. I know Bobby. Well, that is, I know of Bobby. He's the one that the Winchesters turn to whenever they need any sort of help. He does give it, but he never seems to miss an opportunity to insult them as he's doing it. Yet he seems fond of them at the same time.

I listen to Sam list Dean's symptoms and hear Bobby's voice on the other end, but I'm not too concerned about what he's saying. Sam'll tell Dean soon enough, then I'll know what it was Bobby said. Sam snaps his phone shut and looks at Dean, who is blowing his nose. "Dean, did you have all your shots when you were a kid?"

"Geez Sam, you make it sound like I'm a dog or something." He tosses the tissue into the trash can and looks at Sam evenly. "If you mean did Dad keep up with my vaccinations after Mom, the answer is yes. He was an ass, not a monster." He coughs hard enough to bring tears to his eyes, which he wipes away in exasperation, and rubs his forehead before lying back down.

"Okay, so, Bobby had another thought. You know how you don't have any scars and the whole… you know… found and lost virginity thing? Suppose this new body came wiped clean of immunity, too."

"The hell's that supposed to mean? That I can get all the crap that didn't touch me when I was a kid?" He sounds slightly worried.

"Yeah, not to mention all the crap you had before, and aren't immune to now. You know, colds, flues, chicken pox."

"Not helping there, Sammy. Get to the point, will you?" Dean looks understandably unamused by Sam's newest revelation.

"Well, Bobby's had measles, and he said that what you've got sounds an awful lot like measles to him. The fever, the sore throat, the coughing, the rash." He looks pointedly at Dean's glasses, "the sensitivity to light. It all adds up."

"So you guys think that with this new body, I get introduced to a whole new team of germs, as well as some old friends? Man, just when I think this whole back from hell and stopping Lilith thing can't get any more pleasant. What next, the black plague?" He sounds disgusted.

Frankly, I'm a bit, not insulted, per se, but a bit put out. If being out of hell is such an inconvenience to him, he can always take another… but I'm not going to think that way. He's ill and humans say the oddest things when they're ill.

"Yeah, that's about the size of it. You think you can handle measles?" Sam is trying not to be amused now. And failing, from what I can see.

"Yeah, I can handle it. So what, do I just take a couple aspirin and drink water and I'm good?"

Sam shakes his head. "Sorry Kiddo, it's not gonna be that easy. Bobby said that for the next week or so you'll feel like h-…like crap." I find it interesting how Sam steps around the word "hell" now. Dean knows what he was about to say; he could have just finished his thought. I quiet my thoughts as Sam continues, his slip up the proverbial "elephant in the room". "He said we should rent the room for a couple weeks at least and you should weather it out. Otherwise, you're screwed."

"Sounds like I'm screwed either way, Sammy. God, measles?" He's giving Sam a look that clearly says he doesn't believe him.

"Yeah Dean, measles." Sam sits on Dean's bed and reaches to touch his head. Dean hits his hand away with more force than I think was strictly necessary.

"Hands to yourself, Clara. If you want to know if I have a fever, yes, I do. Couldn't tell you how high and I don't want to know myself. If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go to the john." He stands up and walks to the restroom. When he returns, he's shaking. He wraps himself up in his blankets and blows into his cupped hands, trying to warm them. "What are you doing now?" He looks at Sam, who is sitting at his computer.

"Research." Sam is eating a potato chip and wipes his hand on his jeans' leg before typing something in.

Dean is giving Sam a confused look. "We just finished a job this afternoon. And if we listen to Bobby, we aren't gonna have one any time soon."

"Not that kind of research. In case you don't remember, I've never had measles, either. I have no clue what to expect, outside of what Bobby told me."

"Which was?" Dean blows his nose again and sighs, rubbing his forehead. Sam scowls when Dean lets the tissue fall on the floor.

"I told you, you're gonna feel like crap. And you need to keep hydrated." Sam opens his bag and takes out a plastic water bottle. "I need to go get us some supplies. You gonna be okay on your own?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Go on." He removes the dark glasses and drapes his bare arm over his eyes. Sam glances back at him and leaves.

While Dean sleeps, I ponder things. Curious things that I've never even considered before. I wonder what it's like to feel the elements the way they do. I wonder what it feels like to be ill, cough, sneeze. It seems unpleasant.

Unfortunately, I don't have time to ponder very long. Uriel returns with new orders from our superiors. There is a fight several miles away, and we are to help. I leave Dean in his brother's hands and go to join mine.

TBC


End file.
